


Puppy Love

by TheRealSEHinton



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Again, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, For alfred, M/M, Puppy dog, guys request fics from me you see how i deliver, i stay writing fics for alfred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealSEHinton/pseuds/TheRealSEHinton
Summary: There's a thunderstorm outside, and Johnny shows up to Dally's house with a surprise.
Relationships: Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	Puppy Love

I can barely hear the three little knocks beyond the crashing noises of the thunderstorm. But my ears manage to pick up the slight noise anyhow.

I get up from my bed and make my way towards the door, wondering who might be on the other side. I’m not too surprised when Johnny’s wide eyes and gentle smile greet me, we’ve been meeting up a lot lately. But before I can say anything or welcome him inside, I notice his soaked black hair and drenched clothes. And I notice the mysterious bundle he’s hiding in his jacket.

“What the hell, Johnny?” I ask as he pushes past me and walks inside. I catch up to him and reach out for his shirt. “You’re really asking for pneumonia or something, you better take off your clothes. Here-”

“No, wait!” He panics and moves away from my hands. “Um, I need to ask you something.”

I step back and eye him up and down, my gaze lands on that large…whatever he’s hiding in his damp denim jacket again. He seems to flinch away from my stare. Suspicion arises in me. “What did you do this time?”

His face scrunches up like he’s offended and he scoffs. “Dal, I didn’t do nothing!” Then he purses his lips and averts his eyes, almost like he’s thinking. “Well, nothing bad.”

“God, Johnny, what did you do?”

He walks over to my bed and shakes his head. “You’re so judgy.” As he speaks he strips off his wet clothes. “I don’t go off looking for trouble like you do, Dallas.”

He takes off his jacket and shirt and places them on my bed. I’m about to get pissed at him for soaking my bed sheets until I notice something strange. “But you do things without thinking a lot--Johnny, what the hell is that?”

He stops unbuttoning his jeans and looks up at me with big, dark eyes. He bites his lip. “Uh-um, do you got a shirt for me to wear, Dal?”

“Johnny,” I say in a testing voice.

He sighs and rolls his shoulders, shrugging out of his pants. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you but I need a shirt first, Dal, it’s freezing in here.”

I mutter bitterly and pull out a towel and a large shirt from a nearby cabinet. “Well, it’s your fault. Your ass was outside during a thunderstorm, how thickheaded can you be? Sometimes it’s like you want to die.”

“Well,” he says, “actually-”

“Shut up.” I toss him the items and he clumsily manages to catch them. Crossing my arms, I walk towards him as he begins to dry himself off and then slips on the shirt. “So, what do you gotta tell me.”

He smoothes the fabric against him and looks up at me, I notice the tiny bit of nervousness in his brown eyes. His hands begin to fidget. “Please don’t hate me.”

I’m a little taken aback when he says that, I almost flinch. “Johnny, what are you saying? I could never hate you.”

He rolls his eyes. “You take everything so seriously, I don’t actually mean “don’t hate me.” He reaches behind him, into the bundle of wet clothes on my mattress, and pulls something out.

My eyes widen and I nearly gasp in shock. “Johnny!”

“Shush, no!” He says wildly, holding a damp, black and white spotted puppy close to his chest. “Don’t scream, it’ll scare the baby.”

“You brought a dog to my house!” I say.

His lips curve into a pout. “You’re yelling.” He lifts the puppy up to his face and plants a gentle kiss on its nose. “It’s ok little guy, he can’t hurt you.”

“Johnny-”

“Besides,” he starts, glaring at me and tucking the thing in his arms, “this isn’t even your house. I don’t think Buck would appreciate that. And he’s not a dog, he’s just a little puppy.” He nuzzles against its fur. “You’re just a wittle baby aren’t you?”

“That thing,” I say, pointing at the animal snuggled in Johnny’s embrace, “can not stay here!”

Johnny frowns and softly mumbles, “I didn’t ask if it could stay here, Dallas.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You were going to.”

The room is silent for a few seconds as he bites his lips and contemplates over my words, then he says, “Okay, I was going to. But who else could I turn to?”

I throw my hands up. “The Curtises? Anyone else other than me?” 

He shoots me an angry look. “You think they want a dog, Dallas?”

“You think I want one?” I bite back.

His frown is evident on his face and his gaze is striking me like daggers. “I think…” he takes in a deep breath and softens his expression, “that you want to make me happy. Right, Dal?”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he gives me no reaction. He stays looking gentle and calm, the puppy moves a little in his hands. Slowly, I walk up to him and the mutt, eyeing both of them skeptically. “What if the thing grows up and gets big and tries to eat us?”

“Dallas, please, he’s a he,” he says firmly. He holds up the dog to me and scoffs when I back away. “And he looks like a Collie, he won’t get too big, just about medium sized.”

“That sounds too big.”

“Shush,” he says. He begins to stare into the dog’s eyes and announces suddenly, “He looks like you?”

I make a sour face. “What?”

“Look,” he says, turning the thing around to face me. “He has your eyes.”

All I notice is that its eyes are blue. Not even my blue, they’re just blue. Well...I guess the colors are a bit similar. And it’s making a dumb face, its tongue is sticking out and it’s panting. I have no idea why, it feels like negative one hundred degrees in here. The thing must be broken.

“I can’t see it,” I say.

“You’re just being a meany head,” he pouts.

“A what?”

“A poopy, doodie, meany head. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“How do you even know it’s a boy?” I ask.

He lifts it up. “It’s got a thingy, look.”

“I don’t need to look.”

“So can I keep it?” He asks hopefully, eyes wide and shining.

Just to be an ass I say, “Why are you asking me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Dal, you know why I’m asking you.” He sets his chin on its furry little forehead, holding it gently. “I can’t take it home with me, so I’ll need to keep it here. Please, please, please, pretty please, let me keep it here?”

My teeth tug on my bottom lip. “I mean, would I have to take care of it?”

He shakes his head, the dog moves a little when he does that. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll buy the food and the supplies and everything else. I’ll come by here everyday too, which is normal, anyways.”

When I don’t respond, Johnny grabs my arm and pulls me onto the bed. He catches my gaze with his, staring into my eyes intently. Then he curves his lips into a gentle pout and pleads, “Please, Dally?”

I can’t refuse him and he knows it, that little shit. Instead of responding I turn away and let out a long exasperated groan, draping my arms over my eyes. I feel the bed shift and the warmth of his breath against my face, and I can smell that awful wet dog odor.

“Dally,” Johnny says softly.

I don’t look up at him. “What?”

His hand is on my elbow, lowering my arm. When my eyes meet his dark brown ones he smiles softly and says, “I love you.”

I choose not to immediately respond to that. We don’t say those words often, I can count on my fingers how many times we have--and we were always drunk. Those moments where he was a little tipsy and I was stumbling over my feet and smiling at him goofily, those moments where I made sure not to take another sip so I could wake up with the memory of our lips touching. And then we would say that phrase so faintly so we could pretend it was all just a dream.

Once, only once, we said it when we were sober. But to be completely honest, I felt inebriated. I felt like I was on cloud nine. Johnny had come over after getting into it with his dad, he managed to escape with no bruises, and after holding him for a while we both just…made the decision. And I’ll never forget the feeling of having him so close to me and tangling my hands in his soft hair and just whispering, “I love you, God, I love you so fucking much.”

And then the way he said it back, I’ll never forget that either.

We didn’t talk about it when we woke up the next morning, maybe we were too scared to, but when I looked into his eyes I knew that he cherished that moment just as much as I did.

Seeing him now, I’m remembering it all. I’m fighting the urge to run my fingers through his loose curls.

“You’re only saying that because you want me to keep the dog,” I mumble pathetically.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I’m saying that because you are keeping the dog.”

I scoff, sitting up.

“And because it’s true,” he says, laughing and placing a hand on my arm to keep me near him.

My attention shifts to the puppy beside him. It’s stopped panting, now it’s just sitting there and staring at me with it’s pale blue eyes. I keep on trying to muster hate for it, but it seems like the more I try the cuter it becomes. When I glare at him he just yawns and then lays down.

For some strange reason, my fingers start reaching out to touch it. I feel the furry little thing on its head and behind its ears and start scratching it gently. 

“I can’t take care of anything, Johnny,” I say.

Johnny looks at me and smiles. “Aw, that’s not true, Dal. I know you, you take good care of the things you care about.”

I smile back at him and let him hand the puppy over to me, I don’t flinch away or recoil in disgust--though it does stink. I look the thing straight in the eyes and grin, it is kind of adorable. “What’ll we name it?”

“Oh,” Johnny pouts, “I didn’t really think that far.”

“You don’t really think at all.”

“Hey,” he says, playfully punching me in the arm. “Maybe we can just name it, uh,” he rolls his eyes and thinks for a quick second, “‘Boy?’”

I turn my head to him and quirk my eyebrow. “‘Boy?’”

He shrugs, “He is a boy, and it’s a cute name.”

I give him a look.

“Well, do you have anything better to name him?” He huffs, crossing his arms.

I purse my lips and shrug my shoulders. “No, I guess not.”

“Exactly,” he says, reaching to grab the dog and then holding it close. “His name is Boy and we are his new parents.”

I laugh. “Parents?”

He nods. “Yes. Now, who’s the mommy and who’s the daddy?” He barely takes a breath before he goes on, “I think I’ll be the dad.”

“What?” I ask.

“I’m the daddy and you can be the mommy.”

“Johnny-”

“I’m just kidding,” he says, laughing brightly. “We can both be the daddy.”

I take his head in my hands and crash our lips together. He seems shocked momentarily but then puts the dog down on the mattress and presses me closer to him, causing us to collapse on the bed. We laugh for a moment but then find each other again, I shower his mouth and cheeks and jaw and neck with kisses and he giggles and draws me nearer. I hear a tiny bark and I jump. For a second, I pull back and look at Boy, he seems to be studying us from the edge of the bed.

I guess I’m gonna have to get used to that thing.


End file.
